His Off Limits Best Friend - Vivian Wood Page 0,43

next to her, but stirred at the brief conversation.

“Me, too,” he said to her.

“Are you just waking up to eat and drink now?” she teased him.

“That’s what a vacation’s all about,” he said. “By the way, you need to take some selfies or something and post them to whatever you do. Don’t forget, we’re still selling this. We’ll call this the romantic vacation pre-wedding getaway project.”

“Great,” she said, but turned on her camera app. “Okay, act like you love me,” she said and held the camera out to snap their photo.

She had to admit, he followed instructions well. They looked like any other happy couple. No filter needed.

“So, what was the book about?” he asked as the drinks arrived.

“Oh, um. Nothing you’d be interested in,” she said.

19

Sam

When the sun started to set, they gathered up the towels and headed back to the hotel.

“I can’t believe you didn’t go in the water once,” Connor told her.

She shrugged and tried to play it off. “Maybe tomorrow,” she said.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Starving. I thought for sure I could live off of mojitos, but apparently not. Twenty-one-year-old me is so disappointed in myself.”

He laughed. “Well good, because dinner’s in an hour. What are your thoughts on local oysters for a starter?”

Her stomach rumbled at the thought. Something about being in the sun all day had revved up her appetite. “Sounds great,” she said.

They parted ways in the common area, and she sifted through the gowns and dresses that hung in her closet. She chose a floor-length, Grecian-style white gown with a slit nearly to her hip bone. It showcased her toned shoulders and the color she’d soaked up that afternoon.

In the shower, the six heads sprayed the last remnants of the beach from her. Sam watched white sand as it trickled down the drain. Just a few weeks ago, she never believed she’d be somewhere like this. Thank god my job required me to get a passport to work there—just in case. She’d been so nervous that Connor would realize she’d never been out of the country.

Sam swept her hair up in a loose chignon to show off the backless dress. Just a swipe of coral lipstick plus thick fake lashes, and the look was complete. There was no need for highlighter or bronzer. The beach had worked its magic.

She slipped into six-inch strappy metallic wedges and turned to check out every angle in the mirror. With the style of the dress, there was no way she could wear a bra or panties. However, nobody needed to know that to see how drop dead sexy she looked.

She smiled at herself in the mirror and walked into the common area. Connor was seated on the white leather sofa with a drink in hand. “Wow,” he said. That was it. For once, she’d rendered him speechless.

Sam bit her lip. “I’m glad you like it. So… where are we going?”

“Here,” he said. Connor stood up, pulled back the white curtain from their private balcony, and there was a candlelit table set with a lavish dinner.

“You had me get ready for this!” she said incredulously.

“I think it was well worth it,” he said with a wink. He pulled out her rattan seat, and she felt his eyes on her chest as she sat.

As she sat across from him, nothing but candles and moonlight illuminated the balcony. The oysters were decadent, soaked in pink champagne, but something about the night quieted her appetite. Instead, they popped a bottle of champagne and clinked glasses. “I thought you were hungry,” he said as he eyed her.

“I guess not as much as I thought,” she said.

After they’d shared a bottle and picked at their food, Connor put his linen napkin aside. “Dessert?” he asked.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked coyly. He looked ravishing in a white suit with no tie and the top button of his pressed shirt undone.

“Come here,” he said. “Let’s enjoy it on the couch.”

She settled across the cool leather and slid out of her shoes. The dress splayed out like a work of art. Sam felt like a goddess. As Connor returned from the kitchen with a silver platter of strawberries and freshly whipped cream, she hoped he thought so, too.

“They’re local, from Strawberry Fields Farm,” he said as he sat next to her.

“That name sounds made up,” she said.

“If it were, I’d have come up with something more creative,” he said. He picked up one of the largest berries and held it to her lips.